Prologue
I sit with my hands clasped together, opposite Denise, just a table separating us.
We had just spent the last twenty minutes talking about my social life, which I rehearsed over and over in my head the night before, but to my dismay, I knew what was coming.
“How is your daughter enjoying her summer holiday?”
The question, although a fairly normal question, catches me off guard. “F-Fine, thank you.”
Denise smiles and brings out my file, which has “C. ANDERSON” written down in big white letters. It was far too risky to give her my husband’s surname. I watch her as she does this, admiring how young she looks.
Denise looks no older than forty, with clear brown skin. She ties her long curly hair into a bun, like she normally does, and is dressed in an immaculate black suit. I watch as her nimble fingers fiddle through my file.
“Alright, Mrs Miller, let’s talk about your family life,” she says, looking up at me with a smile.
There's the question I was dreading. Family life. Those two words alone were enough to put me into cardiac arrest. My lips purse together.
“Next week, okay Denise?”
Denise sighs, putting her pen down. “Mrs Anderson, is it okay if I call you Claire?”
I nod, not ready for what she’s planning to say.
“Okay. Claire, we’ve been over this. You must tell me the truth,” she tells me, leaning over. “Otherwise, I cannot help you. Do you understand?”
“Y-Yes.” I try not to tremble, but I just can’t help it. “B-but... it’s not that serious.” I whisper looking down at my shoes.
My hands clench my handbag handle so tight that my hands start taking on a red hue. Even just thinking about my husband beating me infuriates me and the fact that I’m struggling to tell the one person who can help me.
“If it were not serious, you wouldn’t be spending eighty dollars a session,” she begins speaking softly, “I don’t want you to waste your money here.”
I exhale sharply and glance at the clock, which reads 2:30 pm. I internally rejoice and promptly stand up with my bag on my shoulder. “Where are you going?” Denise asks with concern.
Not a word leaves my mouth. I dab at my makeup using a tissue so he won’t know I’ve been crying.
I run to my car, get in and lock the doors, eyes staring blankly out of the window. Numbness envelops my entire body, so much so I almost don’t realise I’m crying.
Even though I don’t want to admit it, I’m scared. I’m scared to tell her the truth.
Scared to face this head on.
But simultaneously, too scared to keep living this life.
A web of lies.
Especially not for my daughter. I don’t want to witness me being beaten and berated by the man she calls ‘Daddy’.
I can’t let him know about counselling, he’ll kill me if he finds out.
Two sides of me are at war, my mind wants to go back and tell her and my heart doesn’t. What do I do??
Either way, I’m still going to get beat.
My friend, Rose went through the same thing I went through. She told me about her abusive husband, and she had a young son, about 2-3 years of age. In the end, she ran away, changed her identity and now lives under a different name, in England. I can’t even begin to imagine how she can live with the fear of her husband finding her and her child.
But I don’t want that for my family.
I don’t want Tina to be whisked away from her birthplace, to always be on the move. Grayson loves me, and I love him. At least he’s never hit Tina. I’ll love him no matter what. He loves me back. Right?
Maybe I can hold it together for the sake of keeping this family together?
